Zoids Rhapsody
by RhapsodyofDarkness
Summary: The son of one of the Republic's top snipers decides base life isn't for him and sets out to avenge his famed father. He meets a few refugees on the way, and well . . . read to find out. Ch. 6! Part one ends! More on the way!
1. Dedication

**Zoids Rhapsody**

**Into the Mist**

**Formalities and the like, as necessary:** Praise Tomy everyone, for we are not worthy. I do not own Zoids, the anime, manga, video games, or models. I am making no money off this work of **_fiction_**. I do own all of the characters presented in this tale. As said tale unfolds, I may choose to throw in a few Zoids that I have invented (the ones that I did not decide were too bloody damned cheesy). This story gained a "T" rating because there is a good measure of violence and a spot of swearing. **THIS IS THE ONLY TIME I WILL POST A DISCLAIMER**. However, I will kick off a few chapters with Author's Notes as needed. Oh, and be sure to write me a review for each chapter! Anonymous reviews are allowed.

So let us get on with the tale.

-----

**Chapter One: Dedication**

_Clank_. The noise echoed tremulously throughout the open grounds as the bleak, grey demo-Zoid swiped at nothingness, its catlike frame moving stiffly.

_Clank_. It slashed again. There was a pause. Then all at once, a fulminating explosion rocked the grounds. Lancets of flame danced through the crisp morning air, falling to the earth with liquid grace. A man stepped in front of his troops, gloved hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"What you just saw, men," he began in a powerful voice, a voice made frivolous after the splendor of the previous eruption, "Was skill. Major Dubois used the low cloud layer and the position of the sun to his advantage, dropping missiles on the target dummy without being detected."

From the low grey clouds that hung in scraps above the Helic Republic Training Corp Headquarters dropped the magnificently regal from of the Liger Zero Phoenix. Flaring its gold-tipped scarlet wings wide, the angelic Zoid executed a stunning corkscrew, whirling through the air before the lineup of grey-clad troops a bare meter from the ground, then arced back up, righted itself, and disappeared towards the Hangar Bay.

"Doesn't beat a Gun Sniper," called a quiet but audible voice. The Training Officer's jaw hung open as he turned towards the sound.

"Who said that?" he asked delicately and, somehow, sardonically. A young man stepped forward proudly, saluted the bare air before him, and proclaimed his name.

"Trainee Jamison Van O'Flaherty, sir," the ashen-haired youth said with conviction. He dropped his hand to his side and stood at sharp attention as the officer approached him slowly.

"O'Flaherty . . ." the officer muttered, lowering his gaze ponderously. When he looked up, a peculiar gleam had caught his eyes. The Trainee tactfully chose to avoid those eyes. The officer continued steadily, "So you're the one I've been hearing about," he said cuttingly, accusingly.

"Sir, yes sir," O'Flaherty replied with a slight smile. 'Heard about?' he thought to himself curiously as the officer appraised him. He was of average height and seemed, through his somewhat loose uniform, quite thin. He had a light tan to his skin, and wild blonde hair that nipped at his eyebrows and ears. The morning sun caught his brilliant azure irises, reflected threefold in them. His was a sharp chin and smooth jaw line; youthful as the day he had been born yet strong as his father's in his prime.

"Jamison O'Flaherty, son of the late Colonel Jonathon Van O'Flaherty," the officer said with a smugness that belied his general air of regulated properness. He gave two stiff nods, pressing his lips into a thin line. He turned and faced the rising sun before continuing, now silhouetted impressively. "Your father was a good man, soldier. The best damn shot I have ever seen. But he did have an attitude to shame a Dark Horn, and it would seem you're no less." Here, he paused and smiled to himself shortly. Then, turning again, he walked on slowly, still talking. "I expect everything out of you that he had in him, boy. And that includes respect." He finished more sternly than he had begun, and had turned to look down the long line of trainees.

"Yes, sir," Jamison said, still looking straight ahead. 'Keep perfect form,' he thought to himself with a smile. The officer sighed, put out a hand, and said tiredly,

"Troops dismissed."

There was an unorthodox scattering as the fifty or so trainees broke rank and fairly flew for the large, unforgiving doors that led inside, and to their breakfasts. Jamison, however, kept his dignity about him as he walked calmly from the field and into the base.

-----

Having less than nothing to do once he finished the meager assortment of garbage called breakfast, Jamison left as noiselessly as possible, eager to get to the hangar without drawing attention. Confident in his succession, he headed for the hangar bay at a good clip.

Of course, he had not managed to slip out completely unnoticed; a tall, pleasantly curvy figure with strawberry blonde locks that fell about her shoulders carefully followed the young man, her high-heeled boots not making the smallest of sounds against the garishly polished floors.

'Where are you going, little boy?' The woman thought to herself. 'Hangar? You know trainees aren't allowed to pilot Zoids without supervision.' The golden medals upon her red-clothed breast glinted with verve in the less-than-adequate hallway lighting. The rimless glasses that framed her soul-piercing emerald eyes cast jittering white reflections upon the walls as she made haste to keep up with the elusive, if unawares, young man she was after. She was going to let the rip have it if he even thought of leaving.

Turning the corner just before the hangar bay confirmed her suspicions; she could already hear the groaning clicks and clacks of a Zoid stirring from rest. She peered through the small, murky window on the one pivoting door that opened into the hangar and watched, bemused, as the young man coerced a crimson red Gunsniper into leaning over and throwing open its shining golden canopy to receive him.

"Hmmm . . ." she sounded quietly, "Odd color scheme . . . Base red with golden claws, canopy, and guns . . . Must've inherited the Zoid from his oh-so-lovable father …" Her voice fell away to a sarcastic sneer towards the end of the phrase.

The oddly colored Gunsniper snapped its canopy shut and threw its head back with a joyous roar. Apparently, the pilot either did not care, or could not stop the Zoid. Probably the latter. Then, after shortly shaking like a dog, the Zoid turned tail and sprinted out of the hangar.

The woman picked her lips and ran a hand through her hair before dashing into the hangar towards own Zoid. It was the only one of its kind at the base, and she took immense pride in it. She would have to teach that boy a little lesson about following regulation. Smiling contentedly to herself, she patted the massive golden paw of the majestic Blade Liger Mirage, eliciting a pleased growl as the Zoid crouched to nudge its pilot ever so gently.

"It seems we've got a bit of chastising to do, my dear," she said in her light, airy voice. An infinitesimal giggle escaped her lips before she climbed into the Liger's cockpit.

-----

"Damn, it's been a while," Jamison said on a sigh as the Gunsniper sprinted out of the base, fairly flying by the guards—an imposing duo of Gojulas Mk II's—and setting out towards a sector his radar map identified as being "rubble-strewn cliff faces." It sounded fun, so he was going for it. His eyes caught the light with conviction as the first of the monoliths that made up said fun area loomed up before him.

"All right, buddy," he said, leaning forward and gripping the controls tightly. "Let's do this!" He slammed both control sticks forward and floored a pedal in the floorboard, causing the 'sniper to pitch forward and sprint, arms tucked in, head low, tail straight, feet pounding the earth.

He was coming up on the cliff, gearing himself up for the jump to a low outcrop that looked just big enough to hold his weight—for a few seconds at least—when there came a dead-raising roar the ground the Zoid to a halt against its pilot's will. A red light flashed on the monitor just in front of him, between the radar and damage display screens. A second later, the screen flashed to light, showing the angry glare of a woman whose powerful eyes chilled his blood like ice. Then, he realized just whom it was he was seeing. He spun the Gunsniper around and the Zoid gaped along with him.

There before them was the imposing white figure of the Blade Liger Mirage; its CP-012 Attack Cannons swiveled forward over its shoulders. The Liger stamped its front paws into the ground furiously and pealed the skies with another heart-stopping cry.

"Um … hello, Major General . . ." he said, forcing his voice not to quiver as he pasted an innocent smile onto his lips. The raising of the Maj. General's right eyebrow and the clenching of her lips into a paper-thin line told him in fairly certain tones that she was definitely not in a playful mood.

"Well, if it isn't the oh-so-famous Jamie O'Flaherty," she said cuttingly, tilting her head to the left and grinning with lurid, acidic malice. "Are you aware that under no circumstances are you, a trainee in the Helic Republican Army, to leave this base in your Zoid without notifying an officer?" She demanded with an undertone of not only anger, but also smugness. Jamie nodded wordlessly.

"So why are you here?" She asked simply, her voice lifting even higher and her hands flinging into the air. Picking up on its pilots feelings, the Liger reared back like a mighty horse and bellowed, as if to say, "Yeah, you little punk, why?" Jamie smiled.

"I wanted to pilot my Zoid without some bloody wrench-head breathing down my neck." His words seemed to strike her like a slap, and she gasped dramatically, her hand to her sternum, as if to say, "What? You insult me!" The Liger lifted a paw and huffed. Jamie laughed heartily, the Gunsniper echoing in an odd, breathy hiss.

"Return to base immediately. You are on suspension," the Maj. General said with authority, just as if nothing else had happened. With that, the Liger turned, closed up its Attack Cannons, and fired its Attack Boosters, dashing away towards base with impressive speed.

As soon as the COM Link closed, Jamie screwed his face up into a mocking glare and stuck out his tongue offensively. 'Screw her,' he thought passively. With that said he turned the Sniper around and bounded off for the cliffs again. He had achieved the first part of his mission: acquire the Zoid. Now all he had to do was get out of Helic territory without being killed, or worse, caught.

The Gunsniper scaled the wall of a lower monolith with ease and the leapt to the higher peaks of another, its body coiling and launching like a high-tension spring. Jamie was on his way to what he knew was his destiny—persecution with extreme prejudice. First, he needed several key things: a partner or two, a Wild Weasel unit, and a helluva lot of cash.

-----

The sun had climbed high above the rolling sand dunes and occasional wrecked Zoids that made up the majority of the desert wastelands before Jamie came upon a town. Said town was a run-down mess of shabby, mostly desecrated grey buildings, a few larger hotels, and a Zoid Hangar. It looked like the arse end of a Bigasaur, but such a town positively _lured_ mercenaries, the exact kind of people Jamie needed.

As the crimson Zoid marched resolutely into the worn town, Jamie immediately got the feeling something was very, very wrong. He slowed the 'sniper to a mere crawl and advanced down the street overcautiously. A warning sensor screamed the instant before the pile of charred rubble to his left exploded violently, causing the small Zoid to leap instinctively to the right.

"What in blue hell was that!" He demanded of the world as he spun the light Zoid about furiously, trying to find the cause of the explosion.

"Well, what do we have here?" An overly curt male voice asked from the other side of the smoke cloud the explosion had sent up. Jamie leveled the twin Vulcan guns mounted on the Gunsniper's wrists at the lazy black blob of ash and gently rubbed the trigger with his forefinger, readying himself to fire. With his left hand, he flipped the switch that opened up the AZ missile pods the Zoid carried on its back. Whatever was going to pick a fight with him was going to get a face full of Gunsniper before it knew what hit it.

"Who's there!" Jamie demanded, slowly edging his Zoid to the right in an attempt to get a few shots in around the smoke. He was stopped dead as the street just before him was crumbled by a blast.

"I don't think that's really any of your concern, lad," the voice said again. 'Well, whatever he is, he's got some guns,' Jamie thought to himself, noting the rather large crater next to his 'sniper's right foot. 'I'll have to do this quickly.'

Then all at once, a Zoid hurtled through smoke and all Jamie saw was a mass of black before his Zoid went flying through the air. Jamie was thrown around much more than he would have liked as the small red Zoid slammed into the ground and skidded across the street, digging a comical trench as it went.

"Owww . . . damn . . ." he muttered, dazed. Before he could collect himself enough to right the Zoid, his vision was filled by the ebony, cobalt, and gold face of a Liger Zero X. 'Oh, crap . . .' he thought bitterly.

"Hmmm …" the pilot of the Liger said slowly. Then, rather anticlimactically, the Liger yawned and sat on its haunches, seemingly bored.

"Wha?" Jamie asked confusedly as he righted his Zoid. The Gunsniper shook itself, again taking the attitude of a wet dog, and then simply stared at its attacker. After a short pause, the Liger's pilot yawned, and said

"You are no fun, sir." Jamie gaped indignantly and opened his COM Link. The face he saw on the screen surprised him a bit; here was a rugged-looking, unshaven desert thug-type guy with a jagged scar across his forehead, a throbbing vein in his temple, messed black hair, and unnervingly black eyes, seeming to lack pupils. It was hard to believe such a polite thug existed.

"I beg your hellish pardon!" Jamie demanded angrily. The Gunsniper appeared to try to place its hands akimbo, but failed and settled for some semblance of the motion.

"I said you are no fun," the thug repeated frankly. "I knock you over one time and that is the end of it. I'd figure a guy brave enough to come through these parts with the Seal of the Republic stamped onto his Zoid would be a little better with fighting."

Jamie grimaced at the mention of the Republican Seal. He would have to get it painted over quite soon; after all, he was dangerously close to Imperial Territory. 'Put that right at the top of the list,' he thought to himself. He scratched his head, the Gunsniper mimicking (which caused disturbing seismic activity within the cockpit), and asked again,

"So who are you?" The thug sighed, looked down, and spoke in a quiet, reserved tone.

"I am John Bishop. I come from Eastern Guylos, near the Partahoga Fields. I was a test-pilot for their newer Zoids, but I got fed up with it."

"So you left?" Jamie prompted quietly.

"Oh, I left all right; you can count your missiles on that one. I took this Zoid and hacked my way through about a hundred Imperial Artillery Zoids, and then I just started to wander. I have been avoiding their forces for a good few months now. I wandered into this Tomyforsaken dump earlier today, and well, you know the rest."

"Yeah I do," Jamie said with exasperation. He stared at the thu—at John for a moment, and then abruptly asked "You wanna join up?" Seemingly taken aback, the older man blinked a few times before answering, lightly, "Sure."

Jamie smiled contentedly and said "Good."

-----

The Gunsniper and the Liger Zero X loped through the lazy rolling hills of sand that was the stuff of their surroundings. It had been much simpler than Jamie had thought to get a partner; one with such a powerful Zoid was almost unexpected. He counted his lucky missiles for that one.

"Hey Jamie," John called, opening the COM Link. He looked concerned.

"Yeah, what is it?" he replied calmly, his blue eyes reflexively scanning the horizon for Zoids.

"I think we're being followed, mate," John said matter-of-factly. Jamie ground the sniper to a halt, the Liger following suit and turning to look back. Rather than bother looking behind him, Jamie merely turned and leaned into the sniping position, the Gunsniper knowingly planting its large fore claws into the sand as anchors.

The dim screen he stared into hummed into life, displaying the wide, empty landscape behind them. Even through the multi-faceted scope, radiating heat waves floating tremulously through the air skewed any noticeable detail an object may have had.

Jamie focused in on a spec that flashed briefly. As the scope dilated, bringing the object into clearer perspective, he realized with a mild start what the flash had been—a Dibison's 17-Shot Cannon releasing a thunderous (well, would have been) barrage of rounds. Of course, it was _easily_ far enough away to never even dream of hitting them.

Then he noticed something else. It wasn't firing at them at all, but rather, whatever it was that just shot an array of artillery into the Dibison's side, grounding it instantly.

"Hey Josh, I don't think we were being followed . . ." Jamie began slowly.

"Then what is it?" his partner asked curtly, if a little cuttingly.

"I think that Dibison pilot was desperate for some help. So let's help a little bull!"

"Well, if we must …"

-----

The two had moved in just far enough for Jamie to set up and tell what was pestering the Dibison—a Proto Zaber with a really big weapons array on its back that included a Hilbit Vulcan turret, several small laser cannons, and one very large beam cannon. It moved slowly, but packed one helluva punch.

The Dibison, though severely damaged, was still flouncing about, avoiding weapon fire, when Jamie set up for sniping. He instructed John to hold back, as close combat, when avoidable, was unnecessary. John had seemed a bit confused by the idea, but hey, he piloted a Lifer Zero X.

Jamie positioned the quivering cross hair over the Proto Zaber, which was currently throwing its head back for a long, intimidating roar. Taking his opportunity, Jamie zoomed in the view in as far as it would go, lazed the target just below its jaw line, and squeezed his trigger. A plume of flames erupted form the immediately headless Zaber's body, and after a pause, the Zoid toppled over, lifeless.

"Nice shot," Josh said appraisingly.

"Well, let's go see what that guy's troubles were!" Jamie said suggestively, indicating the Dibison that was fast approaching. The Liger seemed to stare dully at the Gunsniper, which was standing erect again, sigh, and trudge on as if defeated.

"What a sore old fart," Jamie muttered to himself. He then laughed gaily, and ran to catch up with the Liger.

-----

The Dibison stopped in its tracks as the two oddly matched Zoids entered its personal bubble; in other words, they were less than three kilometers away. The Gunsniper kept running, while the Liger skidded to a halt as well. The pilots seemed to have a short argument, and apparently, the Gunsniper won, because with an obvious huff, the Liger leapt up and they both advanced further. When they were within a hectometer, the Dibison bellowed a warning and lowered its horns, effectively presenting them with a clear view of the seventeen barrels that were trademark of all Dibison.

Said Dibison was not black and green, gut rather, the base chassis was a dull grey, and the armor was cobalt blue. It had a matching blue Mosa Missile unit on each side of its muzzle, rather then the usual missile pods, and an odd circular armament in place of the three-shot Impact Cannon. Said cannon, along with the 17-Shot array, were a glistening gold sheen.

"Hey, buddy, cool it," the Gunsniper's pilot said. The COM Link opened, revealing the young face of Jamison O'Flaherty. "We got rid of that Proto Kitty for you, so we're obviously not here to hurt you."

The Dibison's pilot gave a slight "Hn," and closed his COM Link. He sat back in his seat, waiting for whatever would happen.

"So … uh…" Jamie began, unsure of what to do. Then it struck him. "Do you want to join us? We are each helping each other with our own personal missions. I'm sure we could use you," Jamie offered with the most inviting smile he could muster. The Liger Zero X gave a short, peeved growl, but Jamie ignored him.

"We could also help you repair your Zoid," he suggested, trying to score brownie points. 'Brownie points work, dammit,' he thought forcefully.

The Dibison's pilot slumped against his safety harnesses, sighing heavily.

"Fine," he said in a powerful bass voice. Jamie smiled happily. Two partners in one day were not too bad at all. Then, his stomach started to growl like to shame the Liger. The Dibison and Liger Zero X both stared at the Gunsniper; he had left the PA on.

"Mayhaps we should get something to eat," Josh suggested, "And gets to know each other over said meal."

"Capital idea," Jamie said, trying but failing to mock Josh's curt accent. He shrugged helplessly as three Zoids gave him short, annoyed roars.

"What!" He pleaded helplessly.

-----

Nearly an hour later, the unlikely trio had stumbled upon another desert community. This Tomyforsaken watering hole did not look as bad as the last heap of scraps Jamie had been in, but did not really look very great either.

Jamie managed to get their Zoids spots in the town's only rusty hangar, through a lot of stolen cash, and quite a bit of buttering up. He was so, so good with the warm smiles and bright eyes. It worked every time.

There was only one bar in the town as well: A dark, muggy place of wooden stools and flaking paint that many years of torment had blackened. The actual bar lacked stools, oddly enough, and had several large chunks missing in random places. Jamie suspected them to be evidence of gunfire.

His comrades each ordered a drink, but Jamie, knowing he simply looked to young, passed and bought a soda, also asking for three of the day's specials. Their order placed, the three found an empty table a good ways from any other customers and sat, Jamie and Josh facing the Dibison pilot, whom had not said a word to either of them since he had agreed to join.

He was a rather lanky man, shorter than Josh but a bit taller than Jamie, with a desert tan darker than Josh's and pure mahogany hair that he had tied back into a ponytail that could have tucked into his dark leather belt. He always bunched his thin eyebrows together over his dark brown eyes, eyes with a certain luster that you could not quite place. He had a pianist's hands, long, thin fingers and a wide reach, and a basketball player's feet, rather large and almost clown like despite the "manly" thick-soled hiking boots he wore.

After what he was sure had been several hours in his young, lively mind, Jamie slapped his hand to the table in a very "break-the-ice" manner and looked the Dibison pilot in the eye, saying,

"Okay pal, what's yer story?" The man heaved a deep chested sigh and leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head. With another breath, he began talking in a light tenor that belied the harsh tones he'd used with them earlier.

"I have been fleeing the Imperial Guard for eight days now. They had captured me when I was on a simple mission of my current employer—yes, I'm a mercenary—and they took me to a holding facility. It was actually rather cheesy, the way I escaped; the night guard had fallen asleep in his chair right by my cell, and so I was able to snatch his keys, unlock the bars, and walk away. I made it completely out of the hangar with my Zoid before I was caught. At that point, they launched a small damned militia after me. Redlers, Dark Horns, Red Horns, even a coupla Deadborders. I still don't know how in Tomy I made it out with just my bunged up Dibison, but I did somehow, else I wouldn't be her. Oh, and the name's Chesnee. I don't talk much."

Jamie and Josh raised their eyebrows, nodding perceptively. Then, something about his little autobiography hit Jamie, and he spoke again, this time a bit more carefully, silently.

"So we have _two_ Imperial Vigilantes and a Republican Vigilante. Interesting." Josh looked a bit confused, and asked pointedly

"Who is the Republican? You?" When Jamie gave no response other than a dumb stare that said, 'Oh, no, I just managed to find a Republican Gun Sniper in the desert, ya dolt!' Josh closed his gaping mouth and nodded, eyebrows orbiting off in space. The arrival of their meals—potatoes and gravy, steak, and hideously greasy potato fries—halted any further conversation.

----

The Major general huffed angrily as she realized, rather belatedly, that the little blonde brat wasn't anywhere to be found. 'Dammit, General Banks is going to absolutely _kill_ me!' She thought despairingly as she made her way to his office to deliver her report. It was going to be a long, long day. Long.

-----

Fin.


	2. Endowment

**Zoids Rhapsody**

**Into the Mist**

**Chapter Two: Endowment**

As the unforgiving desert's sun finally sank to the horizon, cooling the air a fraction, Chesnee pointed vaguely towards a hotel. Not getting the message off the bat, Josh stared dumbly, blinking. It was Jamie, who broke the unbearable silence that ensued, saying,

"The bloke means we need to get a room for the night!" Chesnee nodded satisfactorily, and Josh mimicked with a bemused air. Jamie shook his head, what _had_ he gotten himself in to?

The clerk behind the receptions desk was a massive man who looked like he had just eaten an Evil Pegasus, and looked like he'd kill you at the drop of a gyro cap. Sensing this, Jamie stood back and let Josh step up to do the talking. A few brisk exchanges and they had a room for the night, at a mere 850 credits.

"Eight hundred HOW many!" Jamie demanded as he dropped the suitcase he always kept in his Gunsniper onto a creaking bunk. There were only two bunks, at that.

"Well…" Josh began stiffly, "He made it sound like a good deal…" Jamie slapped his face. He hated it when people sugarcoated things; they always managed to frick something up. Chesnee shook his head gently and squeezed between the two, dropping two bags onto the nearest bunk.

"The floor is metal. Metal, Josh, metal! Do you know what that means?" Jamie demanded, stomping over to an obnoxiously large window that overlooked the gloomy town.

"Um… cold feet?" Josh offered stupidly, shrugging. Chesnee flashed a smile that neither of them saw. Jamie turned on the taller man fiercely, snarling comically.

"No, Josh, not just cold feet! A cold fricking ARSE! I am NOT sleeping on this floor!"

There was silence.

-----

The next morning, Jamie became increasingly aware of warmth about his midsection that hadn't been there when he'd fallen asleep. He looked down nervously, and saw a darkly tanned arm draped snugly about his stomach. He freaked, for lack of a better word.

"CHES!" He screamed, leaping from the cot and clinging to his own arms. The older man peeked one eye open lazily, then noted the red mark around his comrade's belly—it was shaped like an arm.

"'Phobe," he said sleepily, rolling over and snoring immediately. Josh, however, did not go back to sleep, but stood lazily, stretched languidly, and said pointedly, "Well, you're the one who did not want to get a…cold arse. I daresay it was quite warm during the night."

"Dude, stop it!" Jamie screeched, his voice shooting up two or three octaves. "That crap's wrong!" Josh merely smiled an all-too-knowing smile and walked, clad only in his shorts, to the bathroom.

Jamie stared at the bronze back of his other comrade before daring to dive into his suitcase for clothes of his own. He hastily pulled out a red silk shirt and brown cargos, and then waited patiently by the bathroom door, trying to slow his beating heart. He didn't hate homosexuals by any stretch of the imagination, it was just…a long story. He preferred not to think of it.

Josh left the bathroom clad in his dull grey pilot's suit, now fully shaven ("Damn, where'd Josh go?"), and Jamie entered, slinging his clothes onto the sink. He reached into the narrow excuse for a shower stall and fought a good six or seven minutes to get the hot water on before it finally obliged, causing him to slam his head against the wall from effort, and the water to shoot out with a genocidal vengeance.

"HOT!" He screamed, leaping out, "HOT, HOT, HOT, HOT, and HOT!" He cursed under his breath as he forced the cold nozzle into existence, notably cooling the water, but adding to its menacing spray. Just before he stepped in, he heard Chesnee's voice say rather loudly,

"Everyone knows that Slash Liger racing is carried on mainly for the delight and profit of fools, ruffians, and thieves."

'Man, that guy needs to work on learning some one-liners, if he's gonna be a one-liner,' Jamie thought peevishly as he stepped under the soothing warm spray of the showerhead. As his entire body began to relax, he thought, 'So this is why it's eight-hundred and fifty credits for this scaremonger of a bunghole."

-----

After the three of them were bathed, dressed, and packed (Jamie pointedly _not_ looking at Chesnee), they left, simply enough. Or so it seemed.

Ka-BAM!

"What the –" Jamie began.

"Saber," Chesnee said slowly, pointing in his vague way, "Kitten."

"Eh?"

"ZOIDS! NOW!" Josh screamed, harsh with them for the first time. As they turned and bolted for the hangar, a Saber Tiger pealed the skies with a blood-chilling roar and unloosed a volley from its chest-mounted impact cannons.

Jamie smiled inwardly as his Gunsniper crouched down low to let him in as soon he stepped into the hangar. He hastily threw his bag into the cockpit behind him, shut the canopy, and pulled on his safety harnesses. Josh's face appeared on the screen shortly thereafter.

"We need a plan, because me sensors say that there's four of those damned things."

"Four!"

"Cats have bangs of malice…"

Silence.

"Right, so what do we do?"

"Well, I would seem to be the only one truly outfitted for close-combat, so I'll engage thusly. Jamie, see if you can get around them and find a good sniping position. I know what that Zoid is capable of. Chesnee, I want you to pick on whatever feline isn't in your sights at the same time as me or Jamie. All clear? GO!"

Without another thought on the matter, the three Zoids trampled out of the Hangar. Unfortunately, that also meant that Chesnee ran smack into a Saber Tiger. He thrust the Dibison's horns into the dull red Zoid's side and threw it a good hectometer almost casually.

"I stand corrected," Josh said through the PA as he charged the nearest enemy, blades alit, "He's outfitted for melee warfare as well!" Jamie allowed himself a laugh at this remark, but soon enough returned focus to the task at hand: getting to a safe sniping range.

"Here, kitty, kitty," Chesnee muttered as he and a Saber Tiger paced at standoff, circling each other slowly. He had the Dibison's head lowered enough to give his opponents a clear view down seventeen large gun barrels, but had it high enough to pose a rather "horny" threat were he to decide to charge. His Zoid pawed at the ground in challenge, snorting steam through its mechanical nostrils, which acted as air vents for the cockpit. Growing bored of formalities; Chesnee opened up the throttle and rushed the enemy, taking him unawares.

"Night-night," he said as his smashed into the Saber Tiger, which was, by a fashion, much more brittle than the Dibison. Unfortunately, he sent the Zoid skidding arse-over-teakettle into a building, which promptly crumbled. "Oops," he muttered, clearly unconcerned. He even discharged a ferocious seventeen-shot barrage into the heap of rubble to ensure his kill.

"Hey, Ches… lay off the property damage a bit, man," Jamie said over the COM Link. Ches smiled and closed the connection before searching for his next foe.

Josh was in the middle of playing a game of angry-blade-strewn-kitty versus pissed-off-gun-laden-kitty; he'd happened upon a Great Saber. The red Zoid was darting in and out of sight, using its flight pack with extreme skill. Every now and then he found himself leaping over a trio of missiles that came from seemingly nowhere and everywhere all at once.

"This is making me very, very up—" he was cut of as an explosion rocked his Zoid, and the Great Saber fell to the earth in a heap. Reflexively, he dug a blade into its side to ensure that it was out of action.

"You owe me, silk-mouth," Jamie said, his face appearing on the screen with a smug curl to his lips.

"Silk-mouth?" Josh stated plainly, coolly extending another blade and letting a Saber Tiger impale itself on it. "I don't much care for nicknames, Jamie. But thank you, you're doing you job wonderfully. Top marks."

"Blah, blah, top-marks, schmop-marks," Jamie said to himself as he closed the COM Link and swiveled back around into Sniping position. He found the last of the enemy Zoids, and noted that Chesnee was closing in on it, the Dibison bellowing.

'What the hell's he doing?' He thought to himself. The fool was charging, not shooting. The next thing he knew, the Saber Tiger went up out of his viewfinder's range, then fell again a few moments later, smoldering gently. He heard Ches's voice say something to the effect of "Put rabid vermin to sleep," but couldn't swear by it.

"Well, only one round of ammo fired, and no damage to our Zoids," Jamie said after he rotated his chair back to piloting position. His Zoid gave a yawn and again shook like a dog.

"Identity crisis," Chesnee muttered resolutely. Jamie pursed his lips, but was cut off by Josh thus:

"Yes, indeed, a fine job, considering it's our first battle together. Granted, only a bit of teamwork truly took place, what with Jamie sniping down the Great Saber. We'll have to work on coordinating our attacks just like that. Jamie, kudos. Chesnee…well, what can I say? You got two kills; I got one and shared one with Jamie. And you didn't fire a round. I'm impressed. Whoever it was that was attacking you when we found you must have been—"

"Stop talking."

Josh blinked, surprised and slightly offended. All conversation ground to a halt with that one. Then, a civilian came running up to their Zoids, hands waving frantically. He looked friendly enough, so Jamie stood, opening his canopy, to greet the man.

"Can we be of service, kind gentleman?" He asked as politely and buttering-up-ly as he could possibly fathom, smiling. The Gunsniper bent down slowly to let its friend out so he could speak at eye-level.

Or close enough. The man that approached was literally a ball, grotesquely overweight and somewhat disproportionately lacking in height, to put it delicately. He came up to Jamie's navel. Panting voraciously, the man put a monocle to his eyes, and said,

"Oh…but…you already…have. Those…pesky tigers…were terror…rizing…our city…daily. Thank you very…very much!" Jamie nodded modestly and shook the proffered hand, but what came next floored him.

"I would like to offer you our most grateful thanks . . . say, an upgrading armament for each of your Zoids, and…50,000 credits?"

Jamie was speechless. Abso-fricking-lutely speechless. His jaw hung in slack and he nearly fell over, but Chesnee caught him. He hastily regained his balance and stood as far away as respectfully possible.

"We will humbly accept your rewards, though we performed the service with the humble intentions of voluntary actions," Josh stated delicately, bending over to pat the small (?) man's shoulder. Everyone now grinned, though Chesnee's excuse for a grin was slightly…depressing.

-----

Fin.

Thanks to all who reviewed. You guys keep me going.


	3. Tactical Error

**Zoids Rhapsody**

**Into the Mist**

**Author's Note:** Hi, to all… sorry it's been so damn long since I posted the last chapter, but well… I've been through some tough stuff, and I just couldn't write. Please forgive me? Moreover, thanks again to those who reviewed the first two chapters… it was your reviews that helped me break through this wall of writer's block.

-----

**Chapter Three: Tactical Error**

The rotund little man whom had thanked the three warriors so generously turned out to be the mayor of the town they were in, Little Rusty Rock. Apparently, Big Rusty Rock was a metropolis that Josh had heard of, and was only a few kilometers away. The mayor told them that he would inform the local Zoids Shop there of their presence and rewards, and that there was scant little they could not find there.

Therefore, the trio found themselves plodding through the desert sands once more. Jamie was a bit behind the others for some odd reason; usually, he was rushing in ahead of them like the young kid he was.

"There it is," Josh said brightly as the first high buildings of the town—no, city…metropolis—loomed up ahead, just showing through the haze of dust between it and them.

There was an admiring silence.

"Silence is the wit of fools," Chesnee sated bleakly before charging for the town. Rushing to catch up to him, Jamie thought, 'Not bad, not bad at all.'

-----

The city's Zoid Shop truly was amazing. They had everything from CP-012's to Gravity Saurers, from Guysacs to Gunbluster FHATs. It was overwhelming, and then, just downright impressive. Jamie wandered around aimlessly for most of the search, before coming into the Gunsniper section. Now, it was his turf.

They had everything from a modified version of the Helcat's cloaking device to the Wild Weasel "Leena" Special Unit. He kept his eye on that installation; it had two honkin' six-barreled Vulcans, a pair of missile pods, a pair of double-barreled laser pulse rifles, and another pair of missile pods. It was amazing, and priced through the roof. He only got one free buy, and he was sure the team would be angry if he blew the 50,000 credits to hell in one fell swoop. He might just end up spending his free reward pass on that. Then put in a little money to get the barrels coated in gold, the missile pods painted red, that sort of thing. He mentally bookmarked the area so he would know where to come back to.

-----

Josh was in heaven. Free upgrades for his Zoid… what more could you ask for? Oh, wait, he knew: a Zoid that you actually _could_ upgrade. There was almost nothing he could install in his Liger. Almost. He saw the one thing that could make his Zoid any better off, and headed towards the salesperson, smiling happily to himself.

-----

Chesnee was bored. Nothing interested him. Not much could be fitted to a Dibison, and what could, was boring and lame. Therefore, he had fun by pestering the salespeople, begging them to drone on and on about a Zoid or weapon, then saying he did not really like that one, and asking them about a different one, several times over. It really was amusing.

After a while, even that grew boring, though, so he decided to venture into… other areas of fun.

"Oh. My. TOMY!" He shouted, sprinting away from the salesperson, who'd been in mid-sentence (some kind of stabilizing joint mount for the Ultrasaurus!), and hopped in place, standing before—you guessed it—a Shadow Fox. He did mental calculations thus: sell Dibison—75,000 credits… 75,000 and 50,000 is 125,000… Foxy Zoid cost 100,000… leaves 25,000… I get red and gold paint job free… "I'll take it!"

-----

After having wandered around the 'sniper section, the only thing Jamie found even remotely amusing next to the Wild Weasel "Leena" was a dazzling cobalt blue Zoid called the Gunsniper "Spec." He guessed it stood for Special Ops. It was a very vivid contrast to the standard unit, about like comparing a Liger Zero X to a Garius, and besides, he thought it was probably just show. He needed good old-fashioned trusted steel. Therefore, he settled for the free Wild Weasel Unit. Now to do business.

-----

(Three Hours Later)

-----

Jamie marched his heavily laden Gunsniper proudly through the town proper, parading his new armaments with prim parole (A/N way too many Ps in that sentence…). He had told Josh and Ches to meet him at the Northern Gate, so that's precisely where he was headed. When he got there, he was met with the sight of a dazzling crimson-and-gold Liger Zero X with a single-barreled version of the Long-Range Pulse Laser Rifle (the Geno Saurer's gun) mounted betwixt its boosters. It took a second for him to realize that this was, indeed, Josh.

"Holy mother of all things cheese!" He cried. He was greeted with three grunts in response. "What?"

"Please, when in good company, keep a civil tongue about your head," Josh said indignantly. Jamie huffed to himself, and went for the sweet talk, opening up a COM link and grinning warmly.

"That's one snazzy paint job ya got, Joshie," he said in his best cutesy-voice.

"That was very… disturbing," said a new voice. Jamie didn't even have time to turn before Josh had his Liger up at stance, gun leveled and blades at present arms. It gave a roar and, well, did its best to look regal. By the time Jamie was turned around, the pilot of the yet-to-be-identified Zoid had started giggling in a way that absolutely screamed _Ches_.

Jamie gave a start as he found himself staring down a six-barreled Vulcan pod, silver barrels with gold braces on a crimson-with-gold-trim base. The 'sniper leapt back a step for him, earning another little giggle.

"Weird people," the Shadow Fox pilot said. "The dino with a doggie-brain is afraid of the Foxy Zoid."

"Chesnee!" Josh asked incredulously. "Where the devil did your Dibison—oh no…"

For once, Jamie caught on _immediately_. He slapped his consol in what he couldn't really decide was mock anger or true annoyance, and shouted,

"Why the bloody hell would you sell your—I mean—Chesnee, I just—oooh, boy, it's gonna be a long day…"

-----

Major General Martha Marie Malenfant muttered angrily under her breath as she brought General Banks his seventeenth cup of coffee. As punishment for letting Jamison O'Flaherty run off "unescorted," she was sentenced to three weeks of assigned chores. In other words, she was the General's personal maid. She pasted on a default mask of complacency as she back through the door, opening it without spilling even a drop of the creamy brown liquid. 'Seven teaspoon of sugar… and all that cream… it's a wonder he ever sleeps…'

"Here you are, sir," she said in a light, cheery voice, gently setting the cup down on the desk.

"Ah, Martha, my dear…" the General said, smiling slyly. 'Oh, crapmonger… here we go,' she thought wearily.

-----

After the general mutterings of (first) disbelief, (then) acceptance, and (finally) awe at Chesnee's choice of a Zoid, the trio had headed north, towards the township of Herald. Evidently, this was a neutral town (and a merc magnet) that Josh frequented in his "glory days," whatever that was supposed to mean.

It was a good six hours' run and now, Jamie was lagging a little behind by pure necessity; the WWL unit had reduced his mobility by about forty percent. Every so often the Liger and the Fox had to break pace and meander a bit for the waddling 'sniper to catch up. It was quite the sight.

"Know what I just realized?" Chesnee asked blandly. Josh had the gumption to ask what it was. Jamie held his breath.

"We are all red. What's the deal? I miss a fart joke?" The trio erupted in laughter. 'Not bad at all,' Jamie thought almost proudly. 'Maybe he really does have some good ones in that quiet skull.'

Jamie's thoughts were interrupted when Josh said, with no small measure of urgency, "I think we're being followed, my friends!" Jamie laughed and swiveled around to look in his sniper scope, saying,

"Really? 'Cause last time you said that, we had to save Ches's skinny little—holy Tomy!" Through his viewfinder, he saw the rising column of dust that could mean only one thing—a large group of Zoids approaching at a fast pace. They were probably large Zoids, as well. He started counted as best he could; he could only just make out shapes.

"Quick to dissent, quicker dissented," Chesnee said in a wise-man tone. Jamie muttered a cursory grunt as he swiveled back around in his chair and turned his Zoid fully around, presenting his full arsenal.

"Yeah, so mister chivalry was right. Big whoop. We've got fourteen Zoids, minimum, I repeat, fourteen minimum heading our way. I get the funny feeling they're Republican. I suggest you guys get your rears in—"

"Stop talking."

There was silence, in which Jamie thought angrily 'Damn! He's good!' Josh stepped up and assumed command yet again.

"Fourteen potential unfriendly Zoids against three of us. Two of us are equipped for long-range warfare; one of us is not. My Liger has the rawest power of any of us, whereas Jamie's holds the heaviest trigger. Chesnee, old chap, I daresay you're going to play backup on this one. Follow me in to engage the enemy, then shoot like a madman with that Vulcan cannon. Jamie, stay back and snipe; I'd rather not risk and crossfire from your excess armaments. If I need you to engage further, I'll ask it of you. Are we ready?"

Silence. After a moment, the Shadow Fox burst into a mad dash, Jamie trotted his Zoid back around to sniping position, thinking 'Dammit, I _just_ got this stuff!', and Josh, realizing he of all people was lagging, went after Chesnee.

-----

Maj. General Malenfant smirked as the trio she was apprehending broke form and took up a staggered delta formation, the only brat she was interested in staying back to snipe. 'Either that or he's too scared to face me.'

"Attention! All long-range artillery, drop anchor and shell the Gunsniper! Aim to damage, not destroy! He is a deserter and the General wants him imprisoned! All mid-range support, keep the Shadow Fox at bay. I'm going after the Liger." With this order, her fifteen-Zoid battalion (including herself) broke form into a static delta, the nine RZ-028+ Snipe Ligers skidding to a halt at the back, the five Command Wolf LC's setting up ten meters ahead. All together, the mini-platoon opened fire in perfect tandem.

-----

As the first volley of ammo flew in, Josh realized he'd need to sing a different tune. Just as the Zoids had set up, Jamie had relayed to him just what they were facing off. He had also just realized that, because they were Republican, they were probably after Jamie, who was literally a sitting duck. Dino. Whatever.

"Chesnee, would you do an old chap like me a bloody great favor and try to keep Jamie from being murdered?" Josh asked as the rounds whistled over his head, sending up plumes of sand.

"The 'phobe? Why me?" Chesnee whined. Josh huffed in annoyance.

"Because he is our friend, whether homophobic or not! Please!"

"Fine…"

That taken care of, Josh pulled the throttle all the way open and bore down on the white Liger that seemed to have singled him out. 'Righto, let's do this Liger style…'

Without even pausing to think of the value the weapon would have, he jettisoned the Long-Range rifle with the simple push of a button, and plowed onwards, blades flashing through the superheated air of the desert. All tangible thought ceased, and he once again became the decorated soldier he had been before being demoted to 'test pilot.'

-----

"Ooh, we have a smart one…" the Maj. General said, observing the sudden change in ploy. Her men were smart enough to know to adjust appropriately. For now, she had a feisty Liger pilot to deal with. But would she jettison her CP-012's? Hell no. They were like a part of her. "Time to go, honey! Show me whatcha got!"

-----

The Ligers skidded to a halt about half a kilometer away from each other, facing off in a true display of warrior-like honor. They circled each other like lions, silent as the wind. It was an age-old dance, Liger versus Liger, Man versus Woman.

The Blade Liger Mirage made the first move, pausing long enough to throw its head back, unleash a billowing roar, and present its blades, lit with energy that simply flowed from the golden metal. It flared the CP-012 boosters, kicked in the afterburners therein along with the standard backpack boosters, and charged. The Liger Zero X met the challenge with a proud roar of its own, imitating the firing of the back-mounted boosters, and charging headlong. Its triple-blades pivoted forward, reaching like talons before the massive melee of moving metal.

They met with the resounding clang of locked blades, and for one fleeting moment, their faces were a bare meter apart. With a snarl, the white Liger twisted its torso just enough to counterbalance the blade-lock and the red Liger faltered, overbalancing and hitting the dirt hard.

The Mirage raised its paw in a primal display of supremacy, but just before it could bring it down, the Zero locked its jaws around the white Zoid's other foreleg, ripping through vital circuitry and hydraulics. With a pained roar, it stepped back, limping, providing the red Zoid enough time to get to its feet.

"Who are you, soldier?" Maj. General Malenfant demanded breathlessly, trying to open a COM Link. She was greeted with the last face she wanted to see.

"I am the former Major Jonathon Joshua Bishop of the Imperial Army's 27th Expeditionary Task Force. You are not someone I like very much, _Major General_."

"Jonathon Bishop!" She gasped overdramatically, trying to hide the cold fear that now gripped her heart. "You—you single-handedly wiped out an entire platoon of Republican and Imperial Zoids with a Death St—" She was cut off abruptly as the Liger Zero X leapt high, coming down glowing-paw-first on the Blade Liger Mirage's head. When the paw lifted, all that was left was a mess of melting metal.

In one final display of anarchic animosity, the Liger Zero X threw its head back and pealed the skies. It was framed by the smoke of a battle well spent. Then, as Jonathon Joshua Bishop came to himself and passed out, the Liger first leaned as if drunken, then came crashing down to the ground with a resounding thud.

"Josh!"

-----

Well… that was a blast. Now you all know Josh's little secret. Moreover, I hope I may have resolved any confusion as to his name; I know he presented himself as John bishop in Ch. 1 and everyone called him Josh. I think I just neglected to enter his middle name, his alias. Again, I apologize for not updating in months; I was beyond sick and quite disallowed computer access. I'll try to speed it up in the next coupla weeks. Review please!


	4. Reminisce

**Zoids Rhapsody**

**Into the Mist**

**Chapter Four: Reminisce**

Time seemed to stop as the Liger Zero X slouched over and crashed into the desert sand. The Republicans stopped firing, the Shadow Fox slid to a halt that was the product of an evasive dive, and the Gunsniper slowly turned around to stare at the scene.

"Josh!" Jamie cried in earnest, opening up the 'sniper's throttle and flat-out sprinting the laden Zoid to the site. Across the plain, the Republican Zoids regrouped, seemed to converse shortly, and retreated without a second glance. Jamie noticed with a degree of panic that the Blade Liger Mirage was indeed headless.

As he came upon the fallen Ligers, he leapt from the Sniper, snatching the portable communicator with him. He switched the channel to an open-circuit frequency used only for emergencies and yelled into it "Mayday! Mayday! I need a medical unit at sector… L67-A54! Repeat! Medic to L67-A54! Over!" Not bothering to wait for a response, he flung the communicator to the side and searched the Liger Zero's paw for the emergency override panel. He found it on the inner step, close against the claw. Tearing it away, he examined the unfamiliar switchboard only briefly before drawing his fist back and punching his weight into it. Oddly enough, this worked; a hiss of steam escaped the canopy, and it flew open, exposing Josh to the desert air.

He ran around to the Liger's head and was overly surprised to find Chesnee already there, hauling the unconscious Josh from within the cockpit. He laid the man on the sand and simply stood, staring off into nowhere.

"Well? What are you—"

"Shut up. Birdie coming fast. Two thirty." Jamie paused only briefly before understanding, then turned to face what must have been 2:30. There on the horizon, still just a speck, was the Medical Transport of the Elemia Desert: the Salamander. It would only be a few minutes now. He sat on the sand and took Josh's vitals, which were low but present. Satisfied that there was no more he could do, he just simply waited.

Josh was lost in his own mind, trapped in a fitful reminiscence.

-----

(15 Years Earlier)

-----

"Major Bishop, are you in position, over!" A dry, throaty voice called over the airwaves.

"All clear, sir; Death Stinger in position and ready to fire, over," John Joshua Bishop said in a voice that would send chills down a Dark Spiner's fin. He was the key aspect on this mission; with this new Zoid in his hands, the Republicans didn't stand a chance. Today, the Imperial Army's 27th Expeditionary Task Force would be made famous. Today, the rocks of Nyx would shine with the blood of the Republic. Today, though he new it not, Major John Bishop would die.

"This is Major General Carlisle Banks, calling all right flank artillery, are you in position, over!" The voice that was rough as dry tinder called again. A chorus of "Yes, sir!" was the response that twenty-three Heldigunners, five Dark Horns, and two Deadborders issued. The same was the scenario for the left flank, a line of twenty-four Great Sabers, five Geno Saurers, and the Maj. General's Zoid, the Geno Breaker. Three decameters back and dead center, raised high on a rocky monolith, was the menacing form of the Death Stinger.

"All CPC Zoids, drop anchor and charge cannons!" There was a massive _thunk_ as six sets of Achilles anchors slammed into the rocky floor of Nyx. The air crackled as it was de-ionized, the negative and positive ions collecting in the gaping maws of the six CPC Zoids. "Gravity Cannons, drop anchor and charge!" The two Deadborders followed suit, leveling their massive Gravity Cannons and collecting all the latent energy within the Zoid, readying for a shot.

The Republicans appeared over the summit.

"All artillery support, fire at will! All heavy weaponry, sustain charge!" The Dark Horns spun their gatling cannons, the Heldigunners lobbed rounds from their CP-07's; the Great Sabers opened fire with the Heavy Beam Cannons mounted over their right shoulders. Most of the Republic's front lines went up in smoke, but the return fire was instantaneous; five Great Sabers and seven Dark Horns were put out of commission almost seamlessly, merely dropping as though tired to the point of exhaustion. They exploded belatedly.

"Gravity Cannons, fire!" The Deadborders unleashed their rounds deep into the center of the Republic force, blasting massive chunks out of the platoon, sending flaming debris for decameters. "Reload!" The Deadborders stepped back into position and began charging for a second volley. Before the Maj. General realized it, one of the Deadborder's Grav Cannons was struck by what had to have been a sniper's round, and the resulting mushroom cloud enveloped the rest of the right flank. There was no telling how many survived. The Maj. General swore angrily, and ordered the CPC's to open fire.

As the six CPC's were launched, something came over Major Bishop. A dark cloud seemed to block his working conscience, and with it came staggering hate, lusty anger, and the dire need to kill. All at once, the tide of the Battle of Nyx turned.

The Death Stinger's massive fore claws clacked together menacingly as it readied itself to advance. With a soul-shattering screech, it propelled itself over the edge of the monolith and fell to the battle floor below. The Maj. General's angry protests were cut short as one powerful claw closed around the still-anchored Geno Breaker. The red Zoid writhed once and then exploded in a violent shower of flames. The Death Stinger lifted the warped, smoldering carcass high and flung it into the line of Geno Saurers, whose Particle Beams were only just diminishing. The first fell easily, slamming into the next, and so on, in a would-be-comical domino effect. Before the pilots knew what had happened, the Death Stinger was anchored and gathering a massive ball of glowing ions into the CPC at its tail tip.

By now, the entirety of the left flank knew that something was incredibly wrong. The Great Sabers turned and were seemingly taken aback. Before they could even hope to fire, the Death Stinger screeched and threw its claws wide in animosity as it released its massive Charged Particle Beam, first absorbing and disintegrating the Geno Saurers, then sweeping through and cleanly disembodying the Great Sabers.

The Stinger turned and re-anchored, drawing energy to its tail-tip even as it readied the mortar cannons on its back. The few Dark Horns left of the Right Flank turned as if to flee, but the mortar cannon's rounds tore into the rock wall looming up over them, bringing a veritable avalanche down upon the helpless Zoids. The Charged Particle Beam that followed reduced the rubble heap to nothingness.

For one staggering second, the Republicans stared at the enigmatic Death Stinger in awe, and then realized that it wasn't a simple traitor. The realization was punctuated by the sweeping of another Particle beam through their ranks, decimating the majority of the platoon instantly. The few remaining broke and scattered.

No one survived that battle. In essence, even Major Bishop had died; after every last Zoid had been disintegrated and most of the terrain carved out, he stumbled from the Death Stinger, screaming as though possessed. He tried to take his life, but the recovery team the Empire sent bound him and sedated him. He was taken back to the base at the center of Nyx, and diagnosed as Shell-shocked, Schizophrenic, and irresponsible for the mass fratricide that threatened to have him executed.

The Death Stinger was not recovered. Intelligence went to say that it went out to sea, slipped under the waves, and was gone. John Joshua Bishop, by now demoted to a mere test pilot for unstable/experimental Zoids, could not help but have a nagging feeling that the Death Stinger would return for him one day…

-----

(Present Time)

-----

Josh Bishop sat bolt upright in his hospital bed, hyperventilating, with sweat coating his body. He shook his head several times, trying to clear the painful memories of that dark day. He'd been only nineteen… it had been the absolute end of everything…

"I can not think like that!" He said harshly. There was a rustle, and the curtains to his right were drawn back.

"'ey pal, ya mind keepin' it down over dere, eh?" The overweight bald man in the bed next to him asked. Josh nodded almost imperceptibly, earning an annoyed grunt from his roommate. The curtains fell back into place. 'Where the blue hell is this place?' He thought peevishly. His mounting doubts were confirmed when a nurse fairly glided in, hips swaying, blonde hair flying out behind her.

"Well hello, Mr. Bishop, glad to see you're awake! Do you know where you are?" She asked in a voice cheerful enough to churn Josh's stomach.

"Evidently, a hospital," he stated flatly.

"CONGRATULATIONS, CHUM! YA GET FIFTY MIL!" the man in the next bed shouted in a voice that was beyond annoying. The nurse sighed and vanished long enough to gently chide the man, whose attitude seemed to… change… upon seeing her. There were a few cursory giggles, and she returned.

"Now, can you really tell me where you are, Mr. Bishop?" She asked again, batting her eyelashes ever so cutely. She was greeted with a deadpan stare. "Ooo-kay… Well. You are in the Northern Elemia Acute Care Center for Injured Pilots. Your friends called a transport to your location, which was obviously a battle, and we brought you here. They are also here, and I believe they brought your Zoid. Would you like—"

"Bring them here." She stared as if thunderstruck that she'd been interrupted. She then took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and left. Shortly thereafter, the curtain parted again.

"So whatcha really in here fo'?" The man asked with a sly grin. He bounced his eyebrows a few times, causing an unpleasant stir in Josh's innards.

"Evidently I lost consciousness at the end of the last battle I was in. Why?" It was a struggle to remain calm, with the chubby man nodding as if to say 'Yeah right, that ain't gon' work w'me!"

"Hah. Me, I gets in here jus' fer the nurses. Lemme tell you, chum, that lil' blondie jus' left'll give you one helluva good—"

"Oh! Jamie, Chesnee, thank TOMY you're here!" Josh exclaimed dramatically as his friends entered the room. 'Thank you!' Josh thought gratefully as the curtain fell back. He sat up and flashed his teeth happily as the duo stood a little apprehensively at the end of the bed.

"Way… too… weird…" Chesnee muttered. He received a sharp elbow to the ribs, and clamped his hand over his mouth. Josh could see through his eyes that he was suppressing laughter.

"What's going on here?" He demanded, more than a bit annoyed with the oppressive silent treatment. He perched his hands akimbo and waited for an answer.

"Well, ya see…" Jamie began haltingly, "Because you passed out an' all, like without a single damn MARK on you, 'n everything… theysortahadtohookyouuptoanelectroencephalogramtomakesureyouwereokay." Josh stared at him dumbly, having not the faintest idea what he'd said.

"What the blue hell did you just say?" He asked, bewildered. Chesnee sighed, slumping as if defeated, and picked up a mirror. He bit his lips as though holding back pained tears, and thrust the object towards the man. Josh steadied the mirror and observed himself. He sneezed rather anticlimactically.

"So, I have a few wires glued to my scalp, it's a simple electroencephalogram, no?" Jamie now held a hand over his mouth. After a moment, the two gave up and threw their arms around each other, laughing hysterically.

"You look SO ridiculous!" Jamie cried, tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks. Josh crossed his arms indignantly and huffed. 'Well, at least they're not distancing themselves anymore, what?'

-----

A few hours later, the trio was back in their Zoids, which had been repaired through the remaining 25,000 credits of their reward from the mayor of Little Rusty Rock. Evidently, Josh's trip to the hospital had pushed them forward twenty minutes, and the border of the Elemia desert was only a few hours hike away. Of course, they should have been nearing the Crater Valley by now, but well… Josh had been out for a few hours. Now, it was nigh on dusk, and so, they decided to make camp.

They set the Zoids up in a triangle, each facing outward with all weapons (including the Liger's Long Range Rifle, which had been recovered) at present arms. They threw down sleeping bags around a small but cozy fire and drifted off to sleep soon enough, completely unaware of what was lurking just a few hours west and closing fast…

-----

"Major Gordon, do you copy?"

"Yes, General Banks, what can I do for you?"

"Have you located the rebels?"

"Gunsniper, Shadow Fox, Liger Zero X, all red with gold accents, sir?"

"Affirmative. Kill them all."

"Roger."

-----

Fin.

Yay! I finally have a story that makes it into the 10,000 words and up section! Time to break out the… (Drum roll, please!) … Hot tea! Please keep reviewing; I love it!

Oh, and MuggleBuddy: umm… sorry about Major General Malenfant… she hath fulfilled her purpose. Don't hate me! Just stick with it, I promise it'll be okay without her.


	5. Storm the Brigands

**Zoids Rhapsody**

**Into the Mist**

**Author's Note:** Hello again, a new chapter, gung ho! Man, once I break a writer's block, I really tear loose… all this in like two days! Well, I hope this chapter answers a question or two, I know I left you all hangin' out to dry with the last one. So here we go! Thanks again to all who reviewed! You guys totally ROCK! Umm… yeah, thanks MuggleBuddy. You're my faithful fan! Maybe you could round up a few more, eh?

Oh, and I apologize ahead of time for the short chapter. I couldn't draw it any more, folks.

-----

**Chapter Five: Storm the Brigands!**

The trio of red and gold Zoids all turned towards the west as the first fleeting sounds of heavy footsteps came their way. The Gunsniper seemed to paw the air with its arms and sniff like a bloodhound, earning an inquisitive glance from the Shadow Fox. Then all at once, the 'sniper's spike-like ears perked up and it gave a grating roar in alarm.

Jamie nearly jumped out of his skin, literally leaping out of the sleeping bag he'd been dreaming in ever so peacefully. The cold night air sent shivers down his bare back and formed goose bumps on his lower legs. He only half-considered getting dressed before Josh pulled a leader move and cried "Zoids on the horizon! Let's go!" Thus, three shivering men clad only in their under shorts ('Dear God, Ches is wearing _hearts_!') climbed groggily into their Zoids.

"How many?" Ches asked in a slow, dragging voice. He seemed to be the least able to awaken. His Shadow Fox swayed a bit nervously. On the other hand, perhaps its swaying made Jamie nervous…

"I only see one… I can't quite tell what it is yet… Jamie, lad, use that night-vision scope to—"

"On it!" He replied, moving into sniping position. 'I'm a damn cliché,' he thought a bit sourly. As he moved the cross hairs over the sleek Zoid that was galloping their way ('So fast!'), Jamie felt a grip of ice settle around his abdomen that belied the cozy warmth of the cockpit. There in his scope stood the sleek, resplendent form of Major Gordon's Konig Wolf.

"Um, Josh… we may have a little problem…" Jamie said nervously. Major Gordon was the best close-quarters fighter in his Unit. He'd battled alongside Jamie's father in the early days of the war, some fifteen years ago. He'd even been with him when he was killed. He had turned down many promotions, thus the less-than-flattering rank of Major.

"Well, speak up, boy, what is it?" Josh demanded peevishly. Jamie told him, simply enough, and Josh laughed. "Well, hah… umm… do you know him?"

"Yes… but I don't think he knows it's me… I also don't think he really cares right now!" Jamie cried as the Konig Wolf revealed the AZ 5-shot missile pods mounted to each shoulder and let loose a volley. The small missiles kicked up plumes of sand all around the trio, but none struck.

"Warning shots. I say!" Josh cried. Before he could say anything else, the Konig Wolf was in full sprint, making a beeline for the Liger. Jamie and Chesnee scattered, but Josh stood his ground, deploying his blades.

"Come on, what! Let me have it!" He cried. He mentally suppressed the dark, murderous tendencies that welled up absentmindedly, forcing himself to remain Josh Bishop, not Major John Bishop of the 27th Expeditionary Task Force.

The distance closed between the Zoids rapidly, and it looked as if they would collide head on, but at the last second, the Konig Wolf veered to the right. The Liger roared in annoyance, and bounded after the white Zoid.

'Don't do that, Josh, come on!' Jamie thought desperately, already knowing what would happen. His fears were confirmed when the Konig Wolf unleashed a bolt from each of the two scrambling units it housed on its back. Both clusters of antistatic chaff struck the Liger Zero full on, and it roared in annoyed pain as its systems locked up and it crashed into the desert floor. After a few meters, it came to a halt, and lay still.

"Great Tomy I'm out of commission!" Josh cried angrily, slamming his hands on the console. 'Crap. Crap crap crap crap and CRAP!' Jamie thought desperately. He turned the Sniper and made for a hill, hoping that Major Gordon would choose to chase after Chesnee for a while. He almost set up for sniping, but then remembered he had a few thousand credits of unused artillery. Now was the time to take advantage of it. He dropped the fore-claw anchors and readied himself. As soon as Ches was out of his sights, he'd open up on the Konig Wolf. He gently thumbed the master trigger, readying himself to empty his ammo stores. But for now, he had an interesting skirmish to watch.

The Konig Wolf and the Shadow Fox were an excellent match, about like the Blade Liger Mirage and the Liger Zero X. They were both sleek Zoids, very agile, and with an excellent turning radius. Major Gordon wasn't weighted down by the common double-barreled Sniper Rifle the Konig Wolf usually carried, thus greatly improving that already excellent mobility.

The two Zoids circled at close quarters, snarling and nipping the air suggestively. Ches then chose to employ his biggest advantage—a turreted weapon—and swiveled the Vulcan pod around to face the Wolf. After the briefest of pauses, the gun opened fire, sending a good fifty rounds into the Wolf's side in a few seconds. Major Gordon took the hint and broke the circle, loping ahead a few lengths before firing a burst from the scramblers. Somehow (to this day, Jamie couldn't explain it), they didn't even faze the Shadow Fox. The red Zoid just bolted right through them, not skipping a beat.

Unfortunately, in doing so, the Shadow Fox's foot caught on some minute shift in the sand and toppled over, pulling several cartwheels before settling. The Wolf was on it before Ches could right the controls, and with one mighty lurch, had sunk its fangs deep into the Shadow Fox's shoulder.

"Oh no… Ches!" Jamie cried, knowing what came next. There was a brief pause, and then, the sudden silence was punctuated by Chesnee's agonized screams as electricity flowed through the Wolf's fangs and all throughout the Fox, even into the cockpit. For several infernal seconds, Chesnee was caught in the middle of a five-hundred-megavolt battery in operation. Then the Wolf stood, victorious, and turned away.

Jamie's heart started racing and his pulse quickened. He suddenly realized how much of a backseat pilot he'd been the past couple days. The first battle he was in (against Josh), he'd lost miserably; the second, all he'd done was snipe from an unbelievably safe distance (Saving Ches), the third (Little Rusty Rock), he'd hidden behind some well-placed rubble and sniped, and the fourth, he hadn't done a thing but stand there and watch as Josh made mince meat of his former Major General. Now, he was on his own, and he was terrified.

His hand started trembling on the controls. Where the cocky little Aryan pilot had gone to, who knew, but Jamie knew one thing—this was flat-out crazy. Here he was, a rookie pilot with _very_ little field experience, facing down a war hero in a fricking Konig Wolf! Where all sanity had gone to, he had no clue.

"Fiddlesticks," he swore angrily. The Kong Wolf broke into a mad run.

Jamie screamed he pulled the trigger, unloading a volley from every forward-facing armament on his Zoid. The kickback from the massive unloading rocked the cockpit violently, and Jamie had to grab the wrecker bars that lined the sides of the cabin to keep from flying into the canopy. When the cockpit settled, he made a production out of strapping on his safety harnesses.

He waited on the verge of patience for the smoke to clear and the dust to settle, and when it did, he was presented with a… gruesome sight. The Konig Wolf stood there before him, its pristine off-white armour stripped away in most places, including the face, which was now a sci-fi representation of some mechanical hound's hellish visage. Smoke gently wafted off the was-white Zoid in six or seven places, including a large hole, right where the cockpit should have been.

The Konig Wolf lurched forward and fell over with a _clang_. His father's best friend, now a smear of blood in a dead Zoid's cockpit. Jamie opened the canopy, leaned out over the sniper's muzzle, and vomited so ferociously that he brought up blood.

-----

On the other edge of the planet, in the midst of the Dark Continent Nyx, a single figure strode along the lonely shore. It was a darker than normal day, and bitterly cold; the person's breath rose in great white puffs. He turned to the ocean and let out several breaths in a rhythm that suggested chanting, then took a slow, purposeful step into the very fringe of the surf. The waves suddenly boiled out in the bay, rising in his breakers that surged several inches of water over the young man's bare feet. He shivered absently, but took another long, slow stride into the water.

As though angered by his vigorous motions, the sea churned mightily. A wave rushed in to shore and crashed across the youth's torso, tearing away his cloak and revealing a form clothed only in ragged pants and many jagged scars. The wind tossed his vermillion hair all about his head, and with the next wave, he was gone.

All quieted, and the bay calmed to a gentle rolling cadence. The winds died down, leaving a mere breeze that rolled in from the ocean. Eventually, even that vanished, leaving the air dead. The waters even stilled, as though the bay were an inland pond unaffected by tides.

Then all at once, the waters of the bay rushed out to shore, leaving a soggy sand basin. Laying there in the waterlogged sand was the lanky figure of the young Nyxian, sprawled out across the shell-strew shelf like a washed-up carcass. However, he wasn't alone in this revealing basin.

The receding waters had left in their wake a half-buried Zoid. It was massive, with a red back, two spider-like legs and one massive, lobster-like claw revealed on the left side. Several meters down, the sand bulged around the form of an outstretched tail.

The Zoid's eyes flared into brilliant red life for the first time in fifteen years…

-----


	6. Change of Pace

**Zoids Rhapsody**

**Into the Mist**

**Author's Note:** Hello once again, everyone. I know Chapter 5 was a little odd… to say the least… and way too short. The title of this chapter is "Change of Pace," and I believe it is a fitting title. Like it says on my profile page, buckle up, 'cause ya'll are in for a ride starting right about now.

And one final note—the Liger Zero Nexus is not my creation. I frankly don't know whose it is, but my friend sent me a picture of one in the mail. I strongly believe it's some sort of kit-bash (it's an actual model), because I can't find anything on it anywhere, other than a bunch of pictures of the very model whose picture I have.

-----

**Chapter Six: Change of Pace**

It had only taken a few minutes for the Liger Zero X to come back online, shaking like an angry cat that had just been dropped in water. It took a while longer for the Shadow Fox to arise. It really didn't seem to help anything when Chesnee awoke and started swearing at everything from Tomy to the desert sand to someone named Micah to… well, everything really.

He was now sitting smugly in the cockpit, refusing to say a word or even acknowledge the other two pilots, who were trying to reason with the fuming vigilante. After thirty minutes of ignored questions, the two simply gave up altogether.

A few minutes into the looming silence, it struck Jamie that he had no idea where he was going. He posed this question to Josh, who answered as if insulted.

"I never! You doubt me? Hn! We are going to my safe house, where we will be—would you believe it—safe!" The Liger Zero gave several annoyed grunts throughout this little monologue to emphasize the point of injustice.

"O-kay… well, would you mind telling me where this place is?"

"It's in neutral territory. It has become increasingly obvious that the Republic is after you—I'm supposing due to desertion—and therefore, I have deemed it necessary to take a well-deserved break at a place where no kind of seizure warrant can take effect. Does that sit well with you, your highness?"

Jamie gave a grunt in response; he wasn't feeling up to his butter-up attitude this morning. It didn't seem like any of them were, having been woken at some ungodly hour of the morning by a Konig Wolf sent to kill them, then having to do battle mostly naked, then having to deal with an outraged outlaw… it had been one helluva morning. That was an understatement—it was bad enough to get Josh grumpy…

-----

Jamie became aware that they had entered neutral territory when his radar display flashed once, signifying a zone change, but became gray. The hue of the radar screen depicted municipality thus—Red for Imperial, Gray for Neutral, and Blue for Republican.

"Okay, so we are now in no-man's land. How far till the—oh," Jamie caught himself as a mound of sand rose up before them, falling away to reveal a large metal door that had risen from the ground.

"You think a safe house would be visible? Honestly… you really are off your rocker this morning, lad." Jamie ignored the comment as the trio walked down the entrance ramp into the safe house. As the bay door closed above them, the massive corridor they had entered became alit with fluorescent lighting. Jamie thought it highly resembled a runway, what with the lighted lanes and guiding grids, flashing in sequence all the way down the steel-alloy path.

"Chesnee, whether you feel like talking to me or not, I need you to give me a damage report on your Zoid so that I can have my maintenance team get to work on it—"

"You have a _maintenance team_?"

"—as soon as humanly possible."

There was silence. Josh sighed, and said "Very well then. Suit yourself." He turned into a hangar bay to he right, the others following. Jamie had to suppress an amazed gasp at the complexity of the place. And the Zoids! He did a quick scan, trying not to pass out in awe, and saw that there were several Zoids that he'd only vaguely heard about en passant. He then remembered that Josh had been a test pilot.

"Did you—"

"Yes. These are all the Zoids that I have tested. The Empire gave me one of each, those that passed and those that didn't. You'll notice a startling lack of mobility amidst them; I daresay this Liger is easily my favorite of them all. The next closest thing would be that golden Lightning Saix in the far corner. I don't use it too often, but I do enjoy the rush of adrenaline it carries with it."

Jamie noticed the Saix he was talking about—golden everything, it seemed—but his gaze lingered there only briefly. He saw an Iron Kong PK, a Dark Horn DG, some odd variant of the Geno Breaker that sported off-white, almost lilac armor and two menacing triple-digit claws mounted on a large backpack booster, and another Zoid he couldn't name, a black Liger bristling with spikes, radar antenna, shield panels, and three golden guns mounts.

"Hey Josh, what are those two Zoids on the right?" Jamie asked, motioning to the final two with the Sniper's arm. Josh paused and the Liger Zero X looked back at him.

"The two Zoids that helped me decide to flee. That dinosaur-looking monstrosity is called a Berserk Fuhrer. The Liger next to it is the most powerful thing I've ever piloted. It didn't pass safety exams, so it will never be used in the Imperial Army unless something catastrophic pushes them over the edge. It is called the Liger Zero 'Nexus.' If you want, I could show you those two Zoids' power some time. But now, I think we all need a good rest."

"I'll buy that. Where do I put the 'sniper?"

-----

"What did you say, Corporal Moore?"

"Er—well, sir, it seems that Major Gordon is—well, that is—dead sir…"

"Damn him. Damn that spoiled little brat and all his forefathers! Put in a call to Major Blithe. This has gone far enough."

The soldier to whom the general had been speaking looked appalled at the request, but nodded his due response, saluted, and left. The General tapped his fingertips together in menacing, slow cadence. 'If she fails me… If she fails me…'

-----

The trio now walked through the underground corridors of what Jamie soon realized to be a _massive_ base. Chesnee still stood apart, although they could feel his anger slowly dissipating. Then something dawned on Jamie. Something he could not hold in any longer.

"How the devil does a refugee of the Imperial Army have such a sprawling base to his name?" He stopped and perched his hands inquisitively akimbo, the softer glow of the hallway lights reflected in his cobalt blue eyes. Josh seemed to take a weary breath, and then leaned against the wall in a manner that didn't quite fit his nature, and spoke in slow, tired tones:

"I was not always a vigilante, my dear boy. You'll remember that I was a test pilot. Imperial Test Pilots are given expansive facilities in which to go on about their work—testing Zoids. I commandeer a forty-million-credit maintenance team composed entirely of factory-type robots that work sentient enough on Zoids, carrying out complex functions of up to seventy-three dimensions. I have a four-story home, so to speak, complete with every amenity you could ever want. I have an endless supply of hot water, enough food shipped in monthly to last a regiment several decades, and of course, a full-fledged arena. You see lad, I am very well off indeed."

Jamie absorbed this, but was not satisfied.

"But if the Imperialists gave this to you, can they not storm it and whatnot?"

"Jamie, my boy…" Josh said, massaging forehead in exasperation. "This is _neutral_ territory. _Neutral_. They took that risk in building this place for me. They cannot, under the Transcontinental Neutral Territory Act of the Wartime Agreement, under any circumstances, do anything at all to this base. It would be breaking a treaty, my boy, and—despite whatever you may have been taught as a Republican youngster—we Imperialists do not do things that harsh." Jamie made as if to protest but was cut off by the rising of Josh's hand. Without another word, they moved on again.

Several flights of stairs later, they emerged into what Jamie could only describe as a bloody _mansion_. When he looked back at the door they'd just come through, he never would have guessed that it led to a Zoid's facility. But then, you'd never guess that this place was three hectometers under the ground, either; some trickery of technology had made it seem as though sunlight was held back by the curtained windows, rather than a visage of packed Elemia sand.

They had emerged into a beautiful parlor, complete with a full-sized (that's 108cm) grand piano in one corner, and a (!) cello rack in the other, holding four pristine cellos. Jamie made a mental note that Josh must like the piano and the cello. Either that or it was some bloody outlandish fetish…

"Well, my friends, we have not the time for a Grand Tour, but I will show you to your rooms. There are still a few hours until sunrise, despite the sunlight streaming in through that window, which is, I assure you, a hologram. I think we could all use a few extra hours of sleep. Chesnee, if you'll follow me, I'll show you first. Jamie, be patient and do _not_ break anything."

Jamie was again about to protest but was cutoff by Chesnee getting in his face and actually _growling_. He was then decidedly quiet, not to mention _very_ patient. He stared blankly at the holographic sunlight streaming in through the window as he awaited Josh's return. His thoughts begin to wander, but suddenly collected on one stunning factoid: Chesnee was still alive, Tomy bless it.

He had been caught in a fourteen-second Electron Fang that was delivered right to his Zoids shoulder—that's one of the largest electrical traffic spots in any Zoid—and after about an hour, had awoken. Granted, he was grouchy as hell, but really, he should have been dead. Or at least really messed up. Yet he seemed perfectly fine, physically.

But that didn't mean that he hadn't been injured. For all he knew, Chesnee could be suffering from electrical misfires in his nervous and/or cardiovascular systems; he could go into seizures or cardiac arrest at any moment. He could—

"I say, lad, are you alright?" Josh's concerned voice brought Jamie violently to the present, and he made a visible effort to get a grip.

"Josh, we need to get him checked out; I mean, hell, he was hit by way more megavolts than it would take to power this whole damn place, and now he's just walking around like nothing's wrong, and he's all grumpy, and he could be seizing, and—"

"Please, get a hold of yourself!" Josh cried, taking the young man by his shoulders and shaking him. Jamie slouched in his grip and fell silent. Taking this as a cue, Josh went on smoothly. "Chesnee is fine. I ran a rather quick-and-dry examination on him through a finger nodule. His EEG and EKG readings are normal. His pulse is a little high, as is his blood pressure, but that's to be expected, no? Give him a few more hours of rest, and he'll be right as bloody rain. Er—without the bloodiness, of course." The attempted joke failed miserably; the cheesy grin he'd forced fell away like melted butter from a roll.

Suddenly, Jamie felt unduly restless and in desperate need of a run. However, he knew his Gunsniper would be a little more than upset at being dragged out so soon after a fight—even though it hadn't suffered a scratch…

"Josh… um… well, y'see," he stuttered aimlessly, clasping his hands behind his back and opting for the cutesy maneuver, "I was wondering if I could maybe… well, y'know…"

Josh rolled his eyes and held up a hand, silencing the boy.

"Which Zoid?" He asked plainly.

Jamie grinned malevolently. Josh felt his heart skip a beat.

-----

A decidedly attractive woman strutted her way into the General's office, a rather tight version of the standard military uniform accenting her gratuitous bosom, flat stomach, trim waist, and curvy hips and thighs. She perched a few feet before the General's desk, hands upon her hips, her fingernails glinting red as blood. She tossed her wavy, strawberry-blonde hair and raised an eyebrow in what could have been annoyance, or expectance.

"Ah, Major Blithe, please, have a seat," the General said genially, standing and pointing to a padded leather chair. She didn't budge. "Well—er, alright then. Down to business." Major Blithe showed the ghost of a smile; she was not one for drooling male life forms, obsessing over her Tomy-gifted figure.

"Major Bli—er, Crystal. Crystal, I have an assignment for you, Crystal."

"What is it? You're wasting my time, _sir_." Hey, if your looks distracted them from military code of conduct, go for it. She hated being ordered around.

"Crystal, I'm sure you've heard of the runaway, the son of O'Flaherty, Crystal." She also hated it when people spoke her name more than once in one clause.

"What about him?" She shifted her weight to the other foot impatiently, rolling her eyes in obvious distaste.

"Well… um, I mean. Hell. I want him dead."

"If I must. When do I leave?"

"Now. Oh, and Crystal—he's accompanied, Crystal."

"All the more fun for me."

With that, she turned and strode out of the room, hips swaying to her own personal melody. As the door closed behind her, the General slammed his fist into the table. "Damn that woman! Every fricking TIME!"

-----

Jamie had never piloted a Liger. He'd never piloted any kind of quadruped Zoid, unless you counted the time three years ago, when he made off with his sister's Command Wolf IS just to rile her up. He'd gotten the love of snipers and dinosaur-types in his blood from his long line of sniping forefathers.

Well, screw heritage to Nyx and back, this thing was fricking AWESOME! Josh had given Jamie a bloody litany on the dangers of piloting the Liger Zero Nexus, which had barely gone in one ear before being ushered promptly out the other.

Now he was crisscrossing the fifty-kilometer radius Josh had permitted above their safe house grounds in seconds, the Liger running in great, bounding strides, two relatively small boosters upon its upper back providing enough thrust to leave a massive wake.

Frankly put, Jamie was in heaven. If it weren't for the fact that the 'sniper had been a gift from his father, he would have dropped it for this Zoid in an instant. Little did he know how perilous a statement that was to make…

As his joyride advanced into complex patterns of leaps, weaves, and even rolls, Jamie became aware of some odd… sensation… just beneath his level of consciousness. It was a very strange feeling, rather like being deep in a dream and conversing casually with someone trying to rouse you. It never dawned on him that this was, in fact, the spirit of the Nexus, slowly but surely asserting itself into his being. And once you pilot a Nexus once, you'll never be able to let it go again…

-----

Jamie became aware that he was being watched some two hours later, and skidded the Zoid to a halt that kicked up a record-winning rooster-tail of sand, at least a hectometer high. He scanned the slowly brightening horizon and saw it—the figure that had been watching him for nearly forty-five minutes.

There, sitting on its haunches a few decameters away (rather impassively, to boot), was the stunningly regal form of the RZ-028+ Slash Liger. As he registered what it was that had been watching him, he suddenly thought of Chesnee, hot water, and Slash Liger Racing. The thought died as it was born, and he focused on this new arrival.

Evidently realizing that it had been noticed, the Slash Liger stood, shook itself (_"Identity crisis…"_), and approached at a fair pace that signified neither benevolence nor hostility. 'Crap, I don't know how to fight with this thing…' Jamie thought desperately. But almost as soon as this thought formed, that queer little feeling returned, and he felt absurdly reassured. He thought he heard a faint roar at the back of his mind, but then, he couldn't have sworn to Tomy by it.

When the Slash Liger was close enough to become a flashing red dot on his radar (that's three Zoid lengths, standard), it halted, lowered its main blades to position, opened up its facial blades, and arched its tail up to display the tail blade. The regal Zoid suddenly became a dire threat. Jamie had never faced a Slash Liger in unfriendly circumstances, let alone one with a pilot, but surprisingly, he felt confident.

A COM link flashed open in the middle of his field of vision, revealing an attractive redhead with startling emerald irises, a nearly inappropriate amount of cleavage, and a passive look of boredom stamped into her face. 'Slash Liger Pilot… I totally get it…' Jamie thought, trying not to drool. In the Western Continent of Europa, 'twas a saying that Slash Ligers were most often piloted by Über-sexy redheads who were often bored with the world, and more often than not, extremely intelligent.

"Are you the son of the late O'Flaherty, top sniper, and blah-shite?" The redhead asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Um—er, yeah," Jamie said, desperately trying not to stutter. Whatever it was that had him so confident about fighting sure as heck hadn't helped with his lady-anxiety. He forced his eyes to remain on hers, to not shift downwards… and downwards… yeah, right 'ere—'Crap! Look up!'

"Well, I've been sent here to kill you. So that is what I intend to do." Without further ado, the COM Link closed and the Slash Liger charged, not even bothering to give a warning roar. Before he realized it, Jamie was on the other side of the Slash Liger, a cloud of dust rising from where his Zoid had skidded to a halt after… jumping?

Suddenly, Jamison van O'Flaherty receded into the back of his mind, and an enigma of passionate anger, lustful hatred, and homicidal vigour surfaced. He moved automatically, watching as if a passenger on his own train of thought. The entirety of the battle played out thus.

The Nexus rushed the Slash Liger, growling angrily and applying the three golden double-barreled Light Beam Cannons that were mounted at port, starboard, and mid-back, swiveled them forward and unleashed volley of fire, driving the heavily armored Slash Liger back against its will. Finally, the blade-laden Zoid stepped out of the line of fire and leapt, its course of action intended to bring the large port blade right through the Nexus's chest block. It didn't happen. The Nexus didn't miss a beat, leaping over the blade and unleashing sprays of fire from the starboard beam cannons, tacking along the length of the Slash Liger. One round hit the perfect spot, disabling the blade port, thus negating any possibility of energy flow, and hindering the blade's mobility massively.

The Slash Liger stumbled but regained its balance before it fell, then turned on one paw and bounded after the Nexus. In a display of mobility belied by the bulky appearance of the Zoid, the Nexus leapt up and cart wheeled through the air backwards, landing behind the Slash Liger once again. Evidently flustered, the Slash Liger skidded to a halt, coming to a sitting position in an unwise display of uncertainty. The Nexus took its opportunity and leapt onto the Zoid, forcing it into a lying position and digging its massive fore-fangs deep into the left shoulder armor. Realizing that the Slash Liger's thick armor caused this move to end in mere armor damage, the Nexus leapt away and aimed its golden guns. Just as the Slash Liger turned, its fired one volley from each cannon mount, and a single shot from the Impact Laser Rifle mounted atop the head. All seven shots slammed into the Slash Liger's chest and forelegs, shoving it back through the sand.

But it was not defeated yet. The Slash Liger unleashed a quaking roar and bounded forward again, skidding sideways to bring its golden tail blade around and into play. The Nexus followed suit, swinging sideways and employing the use of its mace-like tail, surmounted by eight reinforced armor spikes. The Nexus's tail club caught the Slash Liger's tail blade, and they parried like ancient swordsmen, creeping closer to each other with only their tails as a barrier. When the Zoid's were face-to-face, everything changed.

"I can take you to your father's murderer, O'Flaherty," the Slash Liger pilot said. All at once, the presence left Jamie and he was in control once more. His heart raced and his breathing quickened. He opened up a COM Link and looked the woman dead in the eyes, no longer stunned by her beauty. The Ligers' tails still locked, he spoke in a breathy, quavering voice.

"I would give anything to kill the man that murdered my father!"

As if by mutual agreement, the Zoids dropped their tails and backed away to a respectable distance. The Slash Liger again sat on its haunches, and after a pause, the Nexus managed some semblance of the motion.

"Leave them. Your friends, the Zoids. Leave them and come with me, with that marvelous Liger of yours. You have awakened a sense of realism within me that I haven't experienced since joining that pathetic excuse for an army. Come with me. We will traverse the world until we find the man that murdered your father, and then, well… you can put two and two together."

There was a weighty pause, accompanied by an all-encompassing silence that deafened in its awesome verve. Then, in a throaty voice, he scarcely knew he possessed, packed full of hatred, pain, and the lust for revenge, Jamie said, "Take me to him."

As the first glorious rays of sun crept over the crest of the southern hills of Elemia, the Slash Liger turned and bounded north, followed by the Liger Zero Nexus. They each fired their boosters, leaving behind them a massive trail of exhaust and after burn. Within a few moments, they were gone.

-----

(Somewhere off the coast of Nyx)

-----

The massive scorpion-like Zoid moved through the waters of the ocean with resplendent grace, its long, sinister tail flowing out behind it, its eight legs tucked tight to its body, the two massive, deadly fore claws held at present arms, with their blade-like fins extended for balance and maneuverability. The Death Stinger's eyes lit the dark waters before it with the hue of fresh blood as it made its journey southward.

Sleeping soundly in its cockpit was the wraithlike red-haired youth that had freed the Stinger from its aquatic purgatory. The legends had foretold of the Death Stinger's intoxicating prowess, and now it seemed that it had snared another young soul to torment, seize, and rape with its own vile spirit.

The Death stinger let out a low hiss as it felt a sudden shift in the forces of those lives that it was tuned in to so finely. Something had just happened that wasn't supposed to, and it did not like that in the slightest…

-----

(The Safe House, three hours later)

-----

Josh strolled throughout his mansion, glancing briefly at the many cameras he'd hidden over the years that showed him all activity within fifty hectometers of his base. He did a hasty double take, rewound the questionable footage, and watched the battle between the two Ligers. As the Ligers fired their boosters and vanished into the mist, he unleashed a rasping scream.

"Oh… dear Tomy… the Ligers of Constantine have arisen!"

-----

**End of Part One of Zoids Rhapsody**


End file.
